


As though nothing could fall

by Jepshe



Series: Just stay safe [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Wartime Romance, ww2 London
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jepshe/pseuds/Jepshe
Summary: "Should I conclude that you might have missed me just a bit, Stark?"His voice is low and she knows he's just teasing her but the truth is she has missed him so unbelievably much and she has been worried about him even more — so many sleepless nights wondering where he is and so many days listening and reading all those terrible news, scared one day his name will be on one of those endless lists."Just a little bit, maybe," is what she finally gets out.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Just stay safe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844116
Comments: 40
Kudos: 173





	As though nothing could fall

**Author's Note:**

> I had never thought of writing a wartime story, but one Thursday morning I got the idea of Gendry in a uniform, standing on a platform in my head, and six hours later I had this story written. I'm still feeling a bit weird about all of this and I have no idea where it came from, but I guess it wanted to be written.
> 
> And yes, this is going to be a small series because somehow I ended up writing two more wartime stories.
> 
> Title from 'Heroes' by David Bowie.

The train station is filled with soldiers arriving and others saying goodbyes to their loved ones and Arya gets worried she won't be able to spot Gendry in the crowd. It's all just one greyish mass with all these uniforms. 

But her worrying appears to be for nothing because suddenly there's a flash of those blue eyes between the throng of people, making their way towards her, the glimmer in his eyes telling her he has already somehow seen her even though she was certain that could not happen since she's shorter than almost everyone else around her. 

The flow of travellers, coming from the two trains that have just arrived on platforms next to each other, is moving in the same direction as Gendry and Arya finds it impossible to walk up that stream so all she can do is wait, keeping her eyes on the tall figure that keeps coming closer, his eyes finding hers every time they get the chance. She can see his smile, that crinkle in the corners of his eyes, all of it forming a lump in her throat because finally, finally she can believe he's okay. He's alive. 

Tears fill her eyes all the sudden and she can't even see him properly as the last person standing between them steps aside and he's finally right in front of her, looking down at her and still smiling a smile that's uncommonly wide for him and extending both his arms so she can bury herself in his chest, wrapping her own arms so tight around his neck he needs to lean down. And then he straightens his back, his arms are on her waist and her feet are not touching the ground and she doesn't care in the least if she looks ridiculous just dangling in the air because there is no way she'll let him go now that he's here.

She must, of course, let go of him at some point, and he lowers her on the ground chuckling lightly.

"Hey you," Gendry whispers at her, leaning down so that their faces are closer than they normally would be.

Arya struggles to get a hold of her feelings, silently scolding herself for being such a mess, laughing and crying at the same time. She's seen all those silly, emotional girls so many times and she's sworn she won't be one of them, that she can at least keep her feelings under control in the public. But here she is now, a mess of emotions, and Gendry raises his finger to swipe away some moisture from her face.

"Hi," she manages at last, her voice a bit shaky.

He doesn't seem to mind any of it since he's just smiling at her still, leaning lower to give her cheek a soft kiss.

"Should I conclude that you might have missed me just a bit, Stark?"

His voice is low and she knows he's just teasing her but the truth is she has missed him so unbelievably much and she has been worried about him even more — so many sleepless nights wondering where he is and so many days listening and reading all those terrible news, scared one day his name will be on one of those endless lists. 

"Just a little bit, maybe," is what she finally gets out.

  
  
  


They take the cab to her and Sansa's house despite Gendry’s protests that a bus would have been just fine. But Arya grabs his hand and pulls him to the cabs, telling him she doesn’t want to waste the whole afternoon in the bus and that she can very well pay for the ride and he may as well shut up right now because that is only the first thing she intends to treat him to while he’s here.

"What will your neighbours think of a random soldier staying with two unmarried women?" he asks in the car, clearly worried. 

"I don't care," Arya says. 

"Besides, you're not a 'random soldier'," she tells him and that makes him smile at least. 

"Don't worry, I actually think Sansa told them you're a relative staying with us for your leave since your parents live so far in the north." 

"So I'll be cousin Gendry then?" he asks, smiling now. 

"If that's what makes you happy." 

  
  
  


Sansa is waiting at the house to welcome Gendry, but she soon excuses herself, telling she needs to plan a charity event and that she’ll be away the entire evening, conveniently leaving them alone as she had told Arya earlier she would do.

It’s nothing new, the two of them being alone, but it feels different than all the times before and Arya knows very well why that is. It’s because of the way he left and because their letters have carried a tone that is decidedly different than the one all their letters in the past have had. They have been filled with 'missing yous' and 'stay safes' and other sentiments that on their own are perfectly fitting for letters between friends but all put together and signed with 'yours' definitely mean something else. 

Gendry had avoided getting deported for a while, being a few years older and working as a mechanic on a base near the city. But they knew it was coming, he had told them he was willing to go where ever he was needed. So he had left on a ship and now he had come back for the first time. The first time after that moment on the platform, after basically writing love letters for months without actually spelling out the words.

  
  
  


_Gendry leaned his forehead against hers even though they were in the middle of a busy platform._

_"I wish I could come with you," she told him._

_"I know but I'll rather have you safe here."_

_Then, with an air of insecurity:_

_"You'll write to me?"_

_"Of course I will," Arya smiled, wondering if that was what he had actually meant to say and then realising what it usually meant when a man who was leaving off to fight asked a girl if she would write him. She wanted to ask him what he would tell his mates when they asked him who was writing for him._

_"It will probably be over soon, you'll see," he told her, trying to sound confident._

_"Just come back to me, okay?"_

_"I'll try my best."_

_Arya put her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to her, hiding her face in his neck. She only let go when they were calling for everyone to get on the train, brushing her lips on his cheek, just lingering there for a moment._

_He unwrapped his arms from around her waist where he had been holding her tight, but raised his hands to cup her face, his eyes locked into hers as he swallowed._

_"Arya —" he started, but the man yelling for everyone to get in had started to sound more demanding._

_"Just come back, alright?" she said, her voice choked up from all the effort she had needed to put forth to not cry._

_Gendry nodded, pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth and with that he left, turned around and hurried into the train, waving his hand to her from the steps as he got in._

  
  
  


"Would you like some more tea or something?" Arya offers awkwardly after Sansa has closed the door behind her.

Gendry mumbles a yes and follows her into the kitchen. She fixes them some tea and pulls a plate of sandwiches Sansa had prepared for them from the closet, putting it all on a tray and letting Gendry carry it in the sitting room.

They sit on the little sofa, side by side, not really knowing what to say.

"You won't mind if I take this tie off do you?" he asks, fingering the tight knot on his throat. 

Arya rolls her eyes. 

"Gendry, it's me. I don't care what you're wearing, take of that bloody shirt too for all I care." 

He starts loosening his tie and when he pulls it away, she moves a little closer to him and reaches for the collar of his shirt. He stills, appearing to hold his breath as she opens first the top button and then the next one and only breathing out once she lowers her hands. 

"There you go," she says softly. 

He looks at her, stares, really, not moving. She’s still close to him on the sofa, her legs wrapped up under her. She looks at his hands, fiddling with his tie and she lifts her hand to take it from him, leaning to put it on the coffee table. And then she leans back and reaches for his hand that seems to turn to hold hers as if on reflex. 

"I did miss you," she says. 

"I missed you, you have no idea how much," he breathes out, his face all serious. 

"But your letters helped," he adds and she looks up, searching his eyes, asking quietly if his words hold the meaning she thinks they do. 

He keeps their eyes locked as she raises her hand to brush his short hair. 

"Arya…" 

The same way he said it at that platform when he was leaving, like everything he ever needs to say is in that one word, her name. 

The way he keeps looking at her, she really doesn't feel like she needs any more confirmation, so she just leans closer to him and kisses him, slowly, tentatively. 

And he answers in the same way, his hands coming to her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him and his lips moving in sync with her. 

When the kiss ends, she doesn't move much, just stays close to him as he breathes slowly in and out before opening his eyes, looking like he still can't believe what he’s seeing. But then it's him leaning closer, catching her lips with more purpose, deepening the kiss. 

They stay on the sofa for hours, kissing and talking, holding hands and just looking at each other. 

"You can come and sleep in my room if you want to," she tells him when it's getting late. 

He looks at her, unsure.

"Is that.. I mean…" he stammers, "What would Sansa say about that?"

"Sansa would be fine with it but I’m more interested in what you have to say about it."

He chuckles nervously and she doesn’t miss how flustered he gets.

"Alright then," he says and she laughs at his attempt at sounding casual.

She stands up, holding out her hand for him to take. 

"Come on then." 

Arya pulls him to her room, slipping off her shoes and putting her cardigan on the back of a chair. He's sitting on her bed, opening the laces of his shoes before he takes them off and puts them neatly to the side, straightening his back and looking at her as if he's asking for directions on what to do. 

She steps to him, quietly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down his arms before she gets on the bed and pushes him to lay down. 

The kisses downstairs had gotten heated for a while but this feels different, being in her room, the door closed, in her bed. Gendry's hands feel like they are everywhere but still not where she most wants them. And she knows she just needs to feel his skin on hers, so she starts pulling the hem of his undershirt from his trousers, her fingers sliding under the fabric as soon as it's loose, the tips of them slipping under the waistband of his trousers. 

His lips are on her neck but when one of her hands slips lower, touching the bulge on the front of his trousers he pulls his head away. 

"Arya, we shouldn’t."

His voice is choked up as he holds her body a couple of inches away from him, as if he's in that way trying to restraint them both.

"I want to," she tells him, reaching for him again.

She moves on top of him, straddling him, her fingers starting to work on his belt. He stops them, holding her wrists. 

"You know we shouldn’t."

"I don't care what we should or shouldn’t do. You're here and I want you, and I think you want me…"

"Of course I want you."

His words come out rushed, in one breath, like there couldn't ever be even the smallest doubt about it. 

So her fingers work with deliberation, unclasping his belt and opening the buttons of his trousers and then opening the top button of her own dress so she can pull it off from her.

They both pause then, breaths heaving as they look at each other. Him, under her, in his undershirt and his trousers undone, her in her bra and panties on top of him. His hands are still on her thighs, his thumbs starting to brush her skin lightly, enough to emit a quiet moan from her. She lifts herself off from him, sitting on his side so she can help him lift his shirt off and he can take off the rest of his clothes as she opens the claps of her bra and slides down her panties.

Arya lays down on the bed, turning to her side as Gendry positions himself next to her, and they lie on their sides facing each other.

His hand comes to brush the strands of her hair by the sides of her face, so gently.

"You’re beautiful," he whispers.

She swallows back the rush of feelings, all the different ones she has for him, so many of them, and closes the small distance between them, pushing him on his back again and straddling him before she looks in his eyes again and lowers herself on him.

  
  
  
  


They spend the next day aimlessly walking through the streets and parks, eating sandwiches on a park bench in front of a small lake, wondering how London can look so normal from one angle and then, when one only turns one's eyes around, it is obvious how very abnormal this all is. Or rather, how devastating it is, that this is, in fact, what is normal now: collapsed buildings, anti-aircraft bunkers built of sandbags in the parks and signs directing to the nearest shelters visible all around.

In the middle of it all, Gendry is just another young man in an uniform, taking his girl out for a walk while on a leave, receiving polite smiles everywhere but not getting too much attention, because what’s remarkable about it really. Everyone’s seen hundreds or thousands of couples like them, trying desperately to hold on to those little moments of happiness in the midst of all the devastation. 

"We could get married," he says to her, attempting to sound casual, as they walk along the river in the afternoon.

"Don’t be silly," she tells him, "Why should we get married?"

"Well, you know," he shrugs, "People get married."

Arya gives him a firm look to let him know she’s not impressed with that argument.

"At least you could get information if I get hurt."

"We are not getting married because of that," she tells him resolutely.

"Well what if something happens?"

"Then being married hardly helps it."

"Or.." he looks like he’s unsure how to say the words, "What if you get pregnant?"

"Then we’ll deal with it, no use worrying about it right now."

"But you know I love you. I know I have nothing to offer to you and I'm not the man your parents would wish for you but I do love you. "

She stops walking, pulling his hand to stop him too and make him face her.

"I love you too, and you know I don't care the money or the titles."

She pulls him down for a peck, not caring if there are other people around.

"But we’re not getting married."

She takes his hand again, holding on to it firmly, and smiling at him, watching him answer her smile with his own to make sure he’s okay.

  
  


Gendry watches her carefully as she puts on her uniform for the night, making sure her cap is in place and her hair securely pinned out of the way.

She looks at him through the mirror.

"I’m so sorry I couldn’t get tonight off, but we’re short on staff right now — or well, permanently more like."

He nods.

"It’s okay. I’ll just keep Sansa company for the night and try to get some sleep and I’ll be here to make you tea when you get back."

She turns around, smiling at him.

"I’ll try to get some sleep too if it’s a quiet night so we can do something nice tomorrow."

Then the ‘if’ in her words sinks in and she looks at him concerned.

"You do remember how to get to the shelter, if you need to, right? Just get Sansa as soon as you hear the sirens and go as fast as you can if you need to."

"I remember. Don’t worry about me," he tells her with a smile. She wants to tell him that it’s not the same as the battle lines or the base or the ship, that even Jon had been shocked about how it was here when he last came to visit and got to experience one of the worst nights first hand. But she decides against it. It doesn’t help to get scared in advance, it might be they won’t come tonight at all and in that case it’s good if Gendry gets a full night of sleep.

But they do come, filling the night sky with the dread that has the whole city running to their shelters and Arya working hour after hour. It’s the usual chaos, nothing more and nothing less, but it feels so much worse now that she has to wonder if Gendry has made it to the shelter on time, if he has found his footing on that stupid, narrow stairway Arya and Sansa are now more than used to descending in the dark.

As far as her work is concerned, the night is actually a good one as they manage to pull a whole family — a mother and three children — from the ruins of a house, all covered in scratches and bruises, the mother with a nasty scar on her head and the oldest of the kids with a broken leg, but alive nonetheless which is nothing short of a miracle with the state of the house. As Arya drives the family to a hospital, she wonders how a family losing their home can feel like it’s barely a thing, like it’s nothing that will weigh down on her, nothing to make her lose sleep — because the truth is, in the scale of things, it is nothing. If the whole family is alive, they are one of the luckier ones, that is how she looks at it.

And that reminds her of Gendry again — and Sansa, too, because she trusts them to be together. She knows those two are survivors as much as anyone can be, but that doesn’t really quell down her anxiety.

She rarely gets scared at work, not anymore. The first night was a shock of course, seeing all those burned bodies being pulled from a house on fire, but she got used to it all soon because that is the only way one can survive this job. She’s good at keeping her feelings in check, good at concentrating on the task at hand, good at just keeping her eyes on the road as she maneuvers the car through the dark streets, not giving too much thought to the fires around them, to the sounds of the sirens or the planes in the sky, the spotlights occasionally sweeping the streets in front of them and the buildings near them or the rumble from the sky. She’s quick on her feet, can make good judgements fast when needed and she’s strong for her size — and being small is useful sometimes, too. She’s good at this and that helps her feel calm. But she does worry about the people she loves.

Her uniform is covered in a light layer of dust, like it always is, when she takes it off in their kitchen in the early hour of the morning. Sansa has already put the kettle on, like she does almost every morning, always there to greet her when she comes back. She’s in her dressing gown, slippers on, her hair on a loose braid, yawning as she sets a mug for Arya on the table.

Sansa takes the jacket and helps Arya get the cap off from her head too, putting them aside. Sansa will clean those so Arya’ll have a clean uniform for her next sift, Sansa always makes sure of that. That is their arrangement — Arya is off working six days a week and many nights too, and Sansa makes sure she has clean clothes and food to fill her stomach. Arya knows to be thankful for that, especially when she knows how much Sansa is doing with all her charities, too, organizing fundraisers and making sure all the rich people she knows help the people like that family Arya just pulled from the rubble of their house. Sansa may appear to be just the vain upper class lady with her impeccable outfits and her fancy friends, but she works hard these days and Arya appreciates it all.

She’s lifting her mug to her lips when there’s thumbing on the stairs and sure enough Gendry emerges in the kitchen, wasting no time to sit next to her and pull her in his arms.

He’s upset, she can feel it in the way he holds her close to him, a little too tight for comfort but she won’t complain because she has been so worried herself.

After a while, Sansa clears her throat. 

"I'll get dressed and then I'll go to the post office to mail Rickon's package," she tells them, once again leaving them alone. 

"Is this what it's like every night?" Gendry asks as Arya sheds the rest of her clothes in her room after the breakfast, putting on her dressing gown.

"I guess this was a pretty typical night of the bombing — they haven't come every night for a while now like they did at first."

He is shaking his head, looking at her frustrated.

"Arya, you didn't tell me it was like this!"

"I did tell you it was hard work," she protests, "And you hear the news there don't you, you knew it had been bad here." 

But he's still shaking his head. 

"They didn't tell us it was like this. And I didn't realise you were… I didn't realise." 

"Well, it is what it is."

"And you go out on work nights too? How do you manage working after nights like this?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I can manage, we sleep in the cars while we wait and I can arrange my sifts."

He doesn’t look convinced. 

"Arya you're wearing yourself down."

"Well what do you want me to do, leave the people there? Someone has to help them".

He sighs.

"That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you to get hurt."

"And I don’t want you to get hurt but here you are, leaving again tomorrow."

They stare at each other with similar expressions, neither one backing down and Arya gets almost a fond feeling as she realises it, the two of them equally stubborn like they always are, and him, her bullheaded man, always arguing with her. It fills her with affection for him, because that is so typical of him, for as long as they have known each other he has tried to take care of her, whether she wanted it or not.

She reaches for his hand, pulling him closer to her.

"Just come to bed and hold me now will you."

She gets under the covers and feels the mattress dip as he lowers himself on it.

"I just need you to be here when I get back," he murmurs in her ear as he settles behind her.

"You know I can’t promise that. Even if I don’t work, you saw what it’s like."

He’s quiet, but his arms around her tighten.

"We'll just be here now."


End file.
